


heaven full of stars

by Order_Of_The_Forks



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime)
Genre: 4 times everyone thought moomin and snufkin were dating and one time they were, M/M, oblivious boys, shameless much ado about nothing plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-01 03:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18792163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Order_Of_The_Forks/pseuds/Order_Of_The_Forks
Summary: Everyone in Moominvalley was very supportive of Moomintroll and Snufkin's relationship.The only problem was that there wasn't a relationship.At least, not yet.





	1. alone in the night on a dark hill

As the summer days began to dwindle away, Snufkin and Moomin started to spend more and more time together.

It is unknown whether that was largely instinctive on their part or an active grab for companionship before winter.

But as fall inched around the corner, Moomin and Snufkin spent almost every waking hour in each other’s company.

One night, late in the golden summer, Snufkin came to Moominhouse and began throwing pebbles at Moomin’s window.

This went on for a fairly long amount of time, as Moomin was a heavy sleeper; eventually, Snufkin ran out of pebbles and patience and opted to simply climb the rope ladder and knock directly on the window.

That woke Moomin up, and when he saw the face of his friend in the window he was positive that some kind of demon had come to kill him and fell off the bed.

Snufkin almost suffered the same fate, laughing so hard at Moomin’s peril that he temporarily lost grip of the rope ladder, slipping down a rung or two before regaining his footing. The pack strapped to his back doesn’t do any favors for his balance, either.

Moomin stumbled to his feet and ran to the window, throwing it open with such force it almost knocks Snufkin off the ladder for the second time in the row.

“What do you want?” Moomin asked not very quietly, groggy and rude from such a forceful awakening.

“Come with me,” Snufkin said, and began his careful descent down the rope ladder. 

Moomin didn’t ask where they were going. His head was still stuffed full of the lint of sleep, and Snufkin kept walking faster and faster, insisting that they mustn’t miss it, whatever it is.

The air got colder and saltier and Moomin slowly came to in the night air.

Snufkin had led them both to the cliff overlooking the beach. The pine trees stood stoic behind them, and the evergreen air burned the backs of their throats. A stiff breeze blew relentlessly, and Snufkin had to keep one paw steadily clamped on his hat to keep it from flying away. 

And the _sky_.

It was a crystal clear night, and the infinite blackness of the sky was illuminated by a myriad of stars. It was a new moon, and the fiery stars were the only things providing any light. The whole of the sky was a gleaming dome, like a great hill stretching forever above them. 

But Snufkin was pointing at the water, where the ocean was dotted by thousands of glowing, writhing shapes.

For a second, Moomin thought it was the reflection of the stars in the water. But it was too choppy for so clear a reflection, and besides, these things were clearly moving of their own accord. “What are they?”

“They’re fish,” Snufkin said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think they’re migrating for the winter.”

“I’ve never seen them before.”

“Me neither.”

They stood there for a long time, side by side on the cliff, sharing the heat between them as they watched the endless stream of fish make their way towards the horizon.

Even after the last fish had disappeared from sight, neither wanted to leave. Snufkin sat on the edge of the cliff, dangling his legs over the side, looking up at the sky. Moomin followed suit.

It was the most beautiful night either witness had ever seen.

After a long, long time of comfortable silence, Snufkin spoke. “You’re shivering.” His voice was choked with the awe of the evening. 

“No, I’m not.” Moomin tried to subtly shift away, to no avail.

“Yes, you are. Stay here.” Snufkin stood up and went to where his pack was leaning against a tree, retrieving his bedroll from the top. He draped it over Moomin’s shoulders. “Here.”

Moomin took half of the blanket and put it over Snufkin. “We can share.”

Nobody said anything. Nobody wanted to.

They stayed there, in that one spot, until the sun came up. Neither slept, although they fought against their drooping eyelids throughout the night. 

As the sun began to rise over the ocean, Snufkin yawned and shrugged the blanket from his shoulders. “You should get back. Moominmamma will be very mad at me if she finds you not in bed.”

Moomin laughed and agreed. So together they walked back to Moominhouse, hand in hand.

When Snufkin reached his campsite, he stayed there and waved at Moomin until he had made it safely up the rope ladder, only then to duck into his tent to try and sleep away the remaining few hours of morning.

What felt like only a few minutes later, Moominmamma called Moomin down for breakfast, who stumbled downstairs and took his seat at the table. He was in a daze as he ate his pancakes, so much so that he almost didn’t notice when Moominmamma said with concern, “Moomin, why do you look so tired? Did you not sleep well?”

Moomin almost choked on a piece of pancake. Thankfully, Little My was grateful enough to uselessly whale on his back, earning a stink-eye from the recipient. “I, uh, I couldn’t sleep last night, so I read a book.”

“Liar!” Little My blurted.

“What?” Said Moominmamma and Moominpapa in unison.

“He wasn’t reading,” Little My attested. “He was with Snufkin!”

Moominmamma switched her gaze to her son. “Is Little My telling the truth?”

Moomin sighed. “Well… yes. Snufkin came over and we went… stargazing.” There. That was a good lie. There was something in him that wanted to keep that night a private thing, and there was nothing wrong with that, right?

“No!” Little My argued, standing on her chair to have better command over the table. “They were on a _date_!”

Moomin stood up too, out of pure indignation, his chair clattering to the floor behind him from the force of it. “No we were not!”

“Yes you were! I saw you!” She turned her attention directly to Moominmamma. “They went to the beach and they were sharing a blanket, and-”

“Little My!” Moominmamma interrupted. “Children! This behavior is absurd! Little My, you know that this is none of you business. Moomintroll, you know you shouldn’t go out at night without telling someone.”

The two looked down, shamed. 

“Go and play, now. I’ll clean up breakfast.” 

Little My seemed more than grateful to get out of the house, and she was gone in the blink of an eye.

“Moomin?” Moominmamma said gently

Moomin turned from where he had been standing in the doorway. “Yes, mamma?”

“Please tell Snufkin that I would prefer it if my son had his adventures during the _day_.”

Moomin’s face burned. “Yes, mamma.”


	2. myriads that would not vex or tire

It was an unusually hot day.

The flowers in the garden had all begun to wilt, and everyone in Moominvalley had taken refuge in the shade, making makeshift fans and drinking unhealthy amounts of lemonade.

It was too hot for pancakes, so Moominmamma had cut up some fruit and they were eating it on the porch when Moominpappa suggested a trip to the beach. 

Everyone had wholeheartedly agreed, and Moominmamma tasked Moomin to go collect his friends. 

Snufkin’s tent was the closest, and Moomin found him sleeping facedown on the ground with the tent flaps open. 

“Snufkin?”

He jolted awake.

“We’re all going to the beach, if you would like to come with us.”

Snufkin rolled over and rubbed his eyes. “Alright.”

Moomin grabbed Snufkin’s hand and pulled him up, dragging him out of the tent and across the bridge. “Come on! We’ve got to get the others!”

Snorkmaiden and Sniff were awake when they came and seemed more than happy to go on a beach trip, so by the time they had returned to Moominhouse, they were all ready to set off.

There were a few others at the beach, but it was easy enough to find a sparsely populated stretch of beach to lay down the picnic blanket. Little My ran directly into the ocean, followed by everyone but Snufkin, Moominamma, and Moominpapa. 

“Come swim with us!” Moomin called from the water. 

Snufkin shook his head. “I think I’d rather go fishing with Moominpapa.”

Moominpapa had rigged up the little dinghy for fishing, and Snufkin sat at the stern, rowing out a short distance from shore. 

It was baking out in the sun. The ocean was a glittering green, and Snufkin watched his friends in the water. Little My splashed Moomin, who splashed her back, which began a full-out war between the two. Snufkin would’ve liked to be there with them, but he had a thing about getting wet.

Moominpapa broke the silence. “Are those flowers new?”

He was referring to the clumps of flowers on Snufkin’s hat that he and Moomin had picked the day before. Snufkin reached up to touch them instinctively. “It’s the gorse from down by the river. Moomin decided the yellow went with the green.”

“Ah, yes, it bloomed early this year. Hold on, I have an idea. I have a book of plant symbolism in here somewhere...” Moominpapa went digging through his bag and pulled out a little black book. “Here! Let’s see. Gorse would be under G…”

While he looked, Snufkin watched as Moomin ran on the beach, his ruffled fur like a halo in the sun.

“Gorse. Love in all seasons.”

Snufkin’s head must’ve looked like a cherry placed on top of his body. He pulled the brim of his hat down over his face. “A very nice message.”

“Moomintroll cares a great deal about you.”

Snufkin kept his eyes trained on his fishing line. “Yes, as do I. That’s what friends do.”

“So you’re still friends, then?”

Snufkin’s line twitched in the water, and he reeled in a large cod, the biggest catch of the day, dropping it in the bucket. “Of course.”

“Do you ever think… you would be anything other than friends?”

Snufkin laughed nervously. “What would you rather us be, enemies?”

Moominpapa hummed knowingly. “Folks can be more than friends without being enemies.”

“Oh.” And then, a second time, low with realization, “ _oh_.”

Moominpapa cast his line, and Snufkin watched it glide in the water.

His face was burning, and he gripped the brim of his hat like it was the only thing keeping him sane. “Nothing like that, Moominpapa! We’re just friends- nothing more, nothing less.”

“Ah. I see.”

Snufkin desperately looked around him for any sort of diversion from the conversation, and his eyes landed on the pail of fish. “I think we’ve caught all that we will today, don’t you think?” He said, his voice getting higher on every word.

“Yes, I do suppose you’re right. Let’s row back to shore.” 

Snufkin breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed the oars, rowing with such gusto he thought his arms would fall off.

“Your father was a good man, Snufkin,” Moominpapa mused as they docked the boat. “He felt deeply and recklessly, but he never hid from his emotions. I always respected that about him.”

As soon as the boat was docked, Snufkin went as far away from Moominpapa as possible. He didn’t want to spend too much time with Moomin, either, lest he give Moominpapa any more reasons to suspect anything. So he ended up looking for treasure on the beach with Little My, which was a rigorous enough activity (any activity was rigorous with Little My at the helm) to keep his mind off things.

And though he desperately wanted to talk to Moomin about the wild conversation he had just had, he knew that this was one thing he would never be able to share.

 

~

 

Little My had begun a game of chicken in the water that was comprised mostly of her sitting on Sniff’s shoulders and steering him like a spooked horse.

Moomin wished Snufkin were there. He knew that Snufkin didn’t like getting wet save for bathtimes, and it was one of his greatest disappointments. 

But Moomin was happy enough to watch Snufkin fish from the little dinghy. 

Snufkin only ever shed his jacket on beach days, so whenever he did, Moomin made sure to appreciate it until the next day at the water. It always surprised Moomin how dapper Snufkin seemed without his jacket, with a white linen shirt that had been long changed to the color of cream and a stiff green vest. Moomin loved that vest. Somehow, it had avoided the frumpy destiny of all of Snufkin’s other clothes, staying straight-backed and starched and a vivid forest green. 

“What do you think, Moomin?” Sniff said, waking him out of his reverie.

“I think Snufkin should wear that vest more often, don’t you?”

Little My cackled behind him. “We were talking about dinner, silly!”

“Aren’t we having fish for dinner?” Moomin asked, turning to face his friends. 

“Dinner for our trip,” Snorkmaiden explained.

“What trip?”

“Were you listening to a single word we said?” Snorkmaiden demanded.

Moomin’s face flushed. “Um… no.”

“We’re going on a camping trip later in the week, stupid.” Little My said.

“Oh! That sounds fun! Should I invite Snufkin?”

The others exchanged nervous looks. 

“We were thinking…” Snorkmaiden began slowly, “it might be better to be just us friends.”

Moomin frowned. “Snufkin’s our friend, isn’t he?”

“Well, yes, but…” 

“And he’s a very good camper. He’d be able to help us light fires and set up tents and all.”

“Well, you see.” Snorkmaiden seemed to think about what to say for a second, before settling on saying, “we’re only planning on bringing one big tent for the four of us, and we were thinking it would be too cramped with an extra person.”

Sniff coughed. “It would be weird for us to be there, with you and Snufkin, because-” Snorkmaiden shot Sniff a look. “It might get… awkward,” he finished quietly.

Moomin smiled nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Forget it,” Little My interrupts. “He’s not going to tell us anything. He’s _shy_.”

Moomin flushed with anger but said nothing, contenting to watch Snufkin bring the boat in. He tied the knots with incredible ease, and Moomin was considering asking if he had ever been on a sailing boat before during his travels.

That night, they roast the cod Snufkin caught over a small campfire, and Little My challenged them all to a game of tag. Everyone else had left, so they had free range over the beach. Little My was the fastest, of course, followed by Snufkin, but the spirit of competition overcame Moomin and he ran faster that night than he had before in his life. 

He was chasing Snufkin at one point, down a small sandy peninsula. Moomin was gaining on him, and Snufkin had started to slow down instinctively so as not to plummet into the water, and in a rush of adrenaline and childlike energy Moomin ran up behind Snufkin, wrapped his arms around his waist, and lifted him up into the air. 

Snufkin made a very un-Snufkin-like squeak, and the two dissolved into giggles. Moomin let Snufkin thrash around in his arms a little longer, if only to revel in the laughter that wracked his friend’s body. Eventually, Snufkin’s feet were on solid ground again, and he immediately took off running. 

He could see the look on his friend’s faces as Moomin ran past Snorkmaiden and the others, intent on catching Snufkin again- it was the look of someone who knew something he didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hwllo   
> i wish i was having a fun gay time on a beach rn


	3. like a great hill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin and Snufkin are sent out with a task

On the last day of summer, the Moomins held a party for the whole town. It was a big, fantastical event, and Moominmamma spent the week beforehand just making food. 

When they were little, Moomin’s friends (Snorkmaiden, Little My, and Sniff; Snufkin had yet to come onto the scene) would come over and they would spend the night swimming in the river and stealing food from the adults.

As they grew older, folks began to pair up. Moomin and Snorkmaiden dated for a long time, and they would dance with the adults together. Little My and Sniff would dance and bicker the entire time, as Sniff was as hopeless a dancer that ever lived. Snufkin never went.

It wasn’t his kind of scene.

Then, once Moomin and Snorkmaiden decided that their childhood relationship was exactly that- a childhood fancy- the group would sit on the porch, watching everyone dance and be merry while they made merry in their own way.

But they were grown-ups now, and it was expected that they find someone to _go_ with. 

Moomin and Snufkin were tasked with picking berries for a pie Moominmamma wanted to make. There were the best blueberries just over the knolls by the river, and they had set out with a large basket each and instructions to pick every berry in sight.

It was mostly a silent affair. They worked alongside each other, moving in tandem, slowly filling up the baskets. Snufkin hummed songs he had learned in his travels, light and lilting. Drinking songs, mostly. He knew boatloads. The vagabonds he hung around with would sing them around campfires and Snufkin would have no choice but to listen from his tent and sometimes, if they had any mulled wine, join in.

The river was out of sight but not out of mind, and the babbling of the water on the rocks provided a perfect harmony. 

Eventually, Moomin broke the silence. 

“Are you going to the party?”

Snufkin didn’t answer until he had finished his song. “I don’t know.”

“You should.”

“It’s not my kind of thing.”

“I’d like you to be there.”

Snufkin tilted his hat down over his eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

Moomin bumped his shoulder with his own. “Think about it now.”

“I can’t think about anything with all this talking, now, can I?” 

They laughed. “I suppose,” Moomin said.

And it was quiet again.

Snufkin didn’t sing this time, but Moomin could tell by the way he gnawed at his lip that he was deep in thought.

“Have you made a decision yet?”

Snufkin let out a short, but not mean-spirited, huff. “If you don’t quit bothering me, my decision will be to kill you, and I don’t believe that will turn out well for either one of us.”

“You would go to jail,” Moomin said with a laugh.

“I would dig myself out.” Snufkin poked Moomin’s side, almost as if giving an example of where he would stab, if the situation arose. “I’ve done it once, I will gladly do it again.”

Moomin didn’t think he was kidding, so he decided it was in his best interests to keep his mouth shut. 

They worked in comfortable silence for the rest of the afternoon, and by the time the sun had begun to dwindle, both baskets were heaped with blueberries.

It wasn’t until they reached the bridge that Snufkin spoke again. 

“If I went, what would you do?”

Moomin smiled. “Why, I would dance with you.”

Snufkin thought for a moment. “If I didn’t go, what would you do?”

“I would sit there and wish you had come.”

“Oh.” Snufkin tipped his hat down and hopped up onto the rail of the bridge, swinging his feet in the air. It was times like these that Moomin wished he could see through the wide brim, just to get a glimpse of what his friend was thinking. “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt…”

“Oh, Snufkin!” Moomin exclaimed, picking the other up by his waist and lifting him clean off the railing. “Does that mean you’ll come?”

Snufkin laughed, and Moomin could see his cheeks color delightfully from his angle below. “I suppose.” Moomin squeezed Snufkin tight, his feet still swinging in empty air for any kind of foothold. “Put me down!” He wheezed, his lungs compacted from Moomin’s vice grip. “When did you get so strong?”

They had grown up, though neither wanted to admit it.

But the clues were there.

They simply had to follow them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello thank you all for your lovely comments! (keep it up lmao)  
> this is a short chapter but it's really just to fill in some necessary plot and to write some good Boy Time


	4. i watch them marching stately and still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moominmamma imparts some words of wisdom

Moominmamma had been more than pleased with the abundance of blueberries the boys had picked, and she immediately stole Moomin away to the kitchen to help her bake.

Snufkin said that he had to be off; there were fish to catch, and besides, he didn’t want to clog up the works. 

Moominmamma shooed him out of the kitchen and told him not to track his muddy boots into the house again.

While Moominmamma made the crust, Moomin washed the blueberries, picking out any stems and little spiders. 

From the open window, they could hear Snufkin’s harmonica on the breeze, providing an easy background music for the work. 

There was something that was gnawing at the bottom of Moomin’s gut, though he couldn’t place what it was. 

The wood stove made the kitchen comfortably stuffy, and Moomin found himself yawning out of instinct. 

Moominmamma’s voice cut through the gentle fog that hung in the air and around Moomin’s ears. “Are you excited for the party?”

“I always am,” Moomin said with a grin.

Moominmamma put one arm over her son’s shoulder, giving him a loving squeeze. “But you’re all grown up this year,” she said, her voice brimming with anticipation. “It’s all different.”

Moomin suddenly realized what that nagging feeling was. “Mamma?” 

“Yes?” 

“Is it alright if Snufkin and I go to the party together this year?” He asked nervously. “I know I’m supposed to find a date, but I think he would have a much better time if I were there with him instead of off dancing with some girl.”

“Of course, dear.” Moominmamma took her son’s face in her paws, making him look her straight in the eyes. “It’s not just about couples, you know. It’s about being happy. And if being with Snufkin makes you happy, then there is no reason why you shouldn’t embrace that.”

 _It’s not like that_ , Moomin wanted to say, but stopped himself. Because it was like that, wasn’t it?

Moomin tried to squirm out from his mother’s grasp. “Stop,” he whined childishly, but his smile gave away any absence of annoyance. 

“I’m serious,” she said, letting go and turning back to kneading the pie dough. “Your father and Snufkin like traveling. When you’re out on the open road, it’s easy to find things that make you happy. Now, we both like staying home and making things cozy, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But it does mean that happiness isn’t going to find us. We have to find it for ourselves.” Moominmamma shot a glance out the window, where Snufkin was sitting out in front of his tent, skipping stones on the river. “It also means that when we do find the things- or people- that make us happy, we need to love them twice as much.”

Moomin followed his mother’s gaze outside. “You’re very wise, mamma.”

“Only when I need to be, dear.”

They worked in comfortable silence until the pie was in the oven, when Moomin washed the flour off his hands and asked, “may I go outside and talk to Snufkin?”

“Yes,” Moominmamma said, the corners of her mouth tilting into a knowing smile. “I suppose we’re done in here. Don’t go too far, though, in case I need you.”

Moomin kissed her cheek and ran out the door.

Snufkin was lying on the riverbank with his hat over his face. 

Moomin sat down beside him.

“Hey, Snufkin?”

He made a noise like a startled cat and lifted the hat from his eyes. “Moomin?”

“Sorry to, uh, interrupt your sleep.”

Snufkin closed his eyes again. “I don’t mind.”

After a while, Moomin spoke. “What do you think about when you’re all alone?”

“Anything I want,” he said.

“But specifically,” Moomin pushed. “What do you think about?”

“Well, what do you think about?” 

“I don’t know.”

“If you don’t know what you think about, how am I supposed to know what I think about?” Snufkin said with a laugh.

“I suppose you’re right.”

Snufkin sat up, put his hat back on his head and sat with his chin on his knees, watching the river run by. 

Moomin was getting kind of antsy. “Do you ever get tired of doing nothing?”

“No,” Snufkin said. “I like doing nothing here. There’s always _something_ going on.”

“There’s nothing going on right now.”

“Yes, there is!” He argued. “There’s a leaf floating downstream.”

Moomin laughed. “That doesn’t count.”

“It absolutely does!” 

“Do you ever get to do nothing when you’re traveling?”

“No.” Snufkin shrugged. “There’s no time. If you were to stop and smell every flower, by the time it was time to come back to Moominvalley, you wouldn’t have made it a foot.”

Moomin frowned. “That’s so sad.”

“You can get used to anything, I’ve found.”

“Do you love it?” Moomin asked. “Traveling?”

Snufkin gave him an odd look. “Of course I do. Would I do it if I didn’t?”

Moomin thought for a while. “Does Moominvalley make you happy?”

“Definitely.”

“What specifically about it makes you happy?”

Snufkin smiled to himself, pulling the brim of his hat down to hide the redness blooming on the tops of his ears. “You know, we’re always talking about me. Why not talk about you for a while?”

Moomin could feel his face get hot. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“That’s absurd.”

“What do you think is worth talking about about me?”

Snufkin thought for a second. “Are you happy?”

This was different than Moomin’s questions. Somehow, there was a kind of fundamental difference between “does Moominvalley make you happy” and “are _you_ happy”.

Moomin didn’t know what to say. “Of course.”

“You seem so happy. All the time,” Snufkin mused. “It’s almost infuriating.”

Moomin laughed. “Well, if I am to be hated, I would like to be hated for my positivity.”

“That is a wonderful take on things, Moomintroll.” Snufkin watched as a flock of birds burst out of hiding from the leaves of one of the nearby trees. Millions of blackbirds, appearing at once and dissipating into the air like smoke. “Is Moominmamma making blueberry pie?”

Moomin was grateful for the change in conversation. Although it was his conversation to begin with, he was starting to feel uncomfortable. “Yes.”

“Good.” Snufkin leaned back onto the grass, closing his eyes once more. “I would be devastated if I went to this party and there wasn’t a single slice of blueberry pie to make it all worth it.”

“It would be worth it even if there weren’t blueberry pie,” Moomin said, feeling oddly defensive. 

Snufkin laughed. “Oh, really?”

“Really.” 

“Prove it.”

Moomin grinned. “Well, Moominpapa uses Sniff’s record player to play music, and everybody dances, and we make paper lanterns and put them all around the house, so the whole place is filled with light.” Moomin began to wave his paws around emphatically as he talked, as he often did when excited. “And Moominmamma takes big bunches of flowers and hangs them all around so it almost seems as if you’re _in_ a flower, and-” 

Moomin suddenly became very aware of how Snufkin was staring at him.

“And?” 

Moomin flushed and looked down. “I forget what I was going to say.”

“Well, that sounds lovely and all, but I still think the best part is the pie.”

“How do you know?” Moomin said. “You haven’t even gone yet.”

Snufkin stood up with a short laugh. “I suppose you have a point there. Anyway, I’ll find out soon enough.”

“Where are you going?” Moomin asked from the ground, a little bit whinier than he meant it to sound. 

“It’s getting to be dinnertime, and I’ve got a nice roasted cod calling my name.” 

“Oh.” Moomin stood up as well, brushing the dirt off his fur. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Snufkin gave Moomin a little salute. “Goodnight, Moomintroll.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wassup?  
> i love all y'all's comments (keep it up! ;)) they make me so happy honestly  
> more Boy Time for y'all also happy late mother's day to Moominmamma she deserves it


	5. i know i am honored to be witness of so much majesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The partay

In the days leading up to the party, Moomin saw very little of Snufkin.

This was partly because he was kept busy with work for the party, but Snufkin had been keeping his distance.

Moomin was lonely.

He was worried, too. 

Why was Snufkin giving him the cold shoulder? Had he done something wrong?

Probably. He had probably said something weird and made Snufkin reevaluate their entire friendship and-

“You’ve got to stand up straight or I’m going to fall,” Little My said.

She was standing on Moomin’s shoulders, hanging crepe paper streamers from the roof of the porch. 

“Sorry.”

“What are you fantasizing about? You’ve been loopy all day.”

Moomin frowned. “No, I have not.”

“Are you thinking about Snufkin?”

“No,” Moomin said quickly, the flush on his cheeks illuminating the lie. “Just… thinking about the party.”

“Thinking about your date?”

“Hush, you.” Moomin purposefully shifted his shoulders so that Little My had to grab onto the lip of the roof to avoid toppling to the ground. “It’s not a date.”

“Keep believing that.”

Little My hung the last streamer and let Moomin know that she was ready to be let down my tugging on his ears, making Moomin yelp in pain and send her to the ground a little bit less gracefully than he could have.

“Little My, I’d like your help in here if you’re done outside,” Moominmamma called from inside the house, saving Moomin from the murder My’s eyes were promising.

“Don’t be bitter because I’m right,” she said, and skipped inside with the brazen air of one who has undoubtedly won her argument.

For a moment, Moomin ventured to hope that maybe, if the work was done, he could go find Snufkin, but his dreams were dashed by Moominpapa telling him that the luminaries had to be lit before the sun went down, and please not to dilly-dally.

Moomin sat on the porch, filling paper bags with sand so as not to let the lanterns fly away. One year, they neglected that bit, and during a particularly strong gust of wind, the lanterns all took to the sky. It was beautiful in the moment, but an absolute pain to clean up the next day.

He was resigning himself to an afternoon of mundane and lonesome work when Snorkmaiden came along, carrying a basket of treats for the party in her paws. She brought it inside and when she left, she stopped next to Moomin on the steps.

“Would you like any help with that, Moomintroll?”

Moomin, not one to be impolite, insisted that he was fine. But Snorkmaiden knew better. She sat down on the stoop beside him and grabbed a stack of bags, and together the pile of unlit lanterns diminished much more rapidly.

“I’m very excited for tonight,” Snorkmaiden said eventually. 

“Me too.”

They had always been good friends. They had been almost inseparable when they were dating as children. As time wore on, they realized their attraction was nothing more than puppy love and split on the best of terms, but things had never been _quite_ the same. The ease of conversation never flowed as naturally. 

“Remember that boy I met a few summers back?” Snorkmaiden said. Moomin nodded. “Well, he’s in the area visiting his grandmother, and I was able to convince him to come with me.”

“That’s wonderful,” Moomin said absently, mainly focused on the task at hand. “You two certainly got on well.”

Unlike his time with Snufkin, which was usually spent in calm silence, Snorkmaiden preferred to fill every second with conversation. Which was nice in its own way. 

They talked about all the adventures they had over the summer and about the upcoming fall. About all the apples they would eat and the leaves all changing colors. They did not talk about the winter. 

They talked until every lantern was lit and the sun was just beginning to lose its glow. Snorkmaiden insisted that she had to be off, and Moomin didn’t protest. He would see her later, anyway.

The lanterns were to be placed everywhere. On tables, grass, in the garden. Any flat surface was fair game. It was a new moon, so the only sources of light in the valley were the stars and the thousands of lanterns scattered about Moominhouse. 

Slowly, almost achingly so, people began to show up. 

Folks from all over Moominvalley began to trickle in, dressed to the nines or clad in muddy boots. Everyone brought something, be it a dessert or a bottle of wine. 

Moomin was buzzing with excitement. 

Soon, the lawn in front of Moominhouse was full of people, all of them friends, none of them Snufkin.

Moomin stood at the end of the path, greeting newcomers and waiting for his own ‘date’ to arrive. Just the thought of Snufkin as his date, even on a technicality such as this one, was enough to make something in Moomin’s chest feel lighter. 

Snufkin was one of the last ones to arrive. Moomin saw him coming from far away, and without thinking, ran down to meet him at the bridge. There was something so viscerally nostalgic about seeing Snufkin meandering down the path towards Moominhouse, his pipe in his teeth, that made Moomin stir into motion. 

Moomin caught Snufkin at the peak of the bridge, capturing him in a hug that lifted his feet clean off the ground. Snufkin didn’t seem prepared for this, and he let out an undignified yelp as he tried to wriggle out of his friend’s vice grip.

“Moomintroll!” Snufkin squealed, eventually wrenching himself free.

“You’re wearing your vest,” Moomin said against his own cognition.

And indeed he was. He had traded in his normal dingy shirt for a striped shirt Moomin had never seen before; he had an inkling that it was either borrowed or stolen.

Snufkin’s ears turned red. “Yes… I was told you were quite fond of it.”

 

Moomin took Snufkin’s paw in his own and pulled him up the path towards the party. 

For a while, Moomin played a host’s role and greeted his parents’ friends while Snufkin chatted with Too-Ticky on the porch, calmly and away from the commotion.

Moominpapa pulled out Sniff’s record player and began to play music, the folky kind of stuff that everyone was more than happy to dance to.

Moomin made his way over to his friend, who was busy trying to reattach a fallen banner back to the porch banister. 

“Snufkin?”

He jumped in surprise. “Oh! Hullo, Moomintroll. Enjoying yourself?”

“I made a promise to dance with you,” Moomin said cautiously, “that day at the bridge. Would you care to?”

“I’m not quite in the right mood yet,” Snufkin answered. 

“Oh.” Moomin sat on the banister, not worrying about the wood giving way under him like he usually did. “I saw you talking with Mister Tomkin earlier.”

“Yes,” Snufkin mused, joining Moomin on the banister. “I thought we might be able to connect as fellow travelers, but he swore like a navvy and the conversation was short-lived.”

“Ah.”

“But it’s still always nice to meet new characters.”

“I agree.” 

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the music and watching the others dance. It was nice. Seeing Snufkin’s face illuminated in the candlelight was more than nice, it was _ethereal_.

And Moomin was entranced.

At one point Moomin got up to get some food but was quickly pulled into a dancing mass, finding himself unable and unwilling to escape. Moomin could feel an itch on the back of his neck where Snufkin watched him with an undefinable gaze.

The hours slipped like a fish through the fingers, and as the candles began to burn down, folks began to dance with intent rather than whimsy. 

Moomin felt lonesome, dancing with all the pairs. Everyone looked so happy and partnered, and there was Snufkin, leaning against one of the old peeling birch trees where lawn ended and the forest began, looking more welcoming to Moomin than anything he had seen in his life. 

So Moomin, full of cider and joie de vivre, went loping down to where Snufkin was standing and proclaimed, in a childlike burst of syllables, “dance with me!”

Snufkin just laughed, that beautiful, chiming laugh. 

“Please?” Moomin said. “I don’t want to dance with Little My, she always steps on my toes.”

“I would, but…” there was that laugh again, “I’m afraid I don’t know how.”

“Don’t know how? What do you mean, you don’t know how to dance?”

Snufkin tipped his hat down bashfully. “I’ve never needed to learn.”

“Surely you’ve danced at least once in your life!” Moomin protested.

“I suppose… I’m partial to the gavotte,” Snufkin offered, “seeing as it’s the only dance I know.”

Moomin grinned. “I can teach you.”

“Oh, I don’t think-”

The song playing ended, turning into a joyful reel. “This is my favorite!” Moomin exclaimed. “You _must_ dance with me. It’s easy!”

Snufkin began to protest, but Moomin grabbed his paw and dragged him out to the lawn where people were dancing. “Come on, you spoilsport!”

Once they were out in the thick of it all, Snufkin did not-so-begrudgingly attempt to dance. Moomin was a good teacher, and it was easy enough; besides, he was spry and a quick enough learner. 

Snufkin stared at his feet intently for the first few songs; at least, he tried, until Moomin got tired of looking at the brim of his hat and put his paws on Snufkin’s cheeks, tilting his head up to force at least some semblance of eye contact, even if Snufkin kept his eyes trained just over Moomin’s shoulder the entire time.

They may not have been the most refined couple, but they certainly had enough fun to last them a lifetime.

There were circle dances that everyone joined in on where the only thing stopping Snufkin from sneaking away to disappear into the trees was Moomin’s vice grip around his waist as they stumbled along to the music. 

As the night began to dwindle away, Snufkin seemed to get more and more antsy. Moomin tried not to be too overbearing, but the night air and the revelry were intoxicating, and he didn’t want to stop dancing.

It wasn’t until Moominpapa replaced the record with a new one, a record of slow love ballads, that Moomin and Snufkin both agreed they could take their leave. They snuck out the little wooded path leading into the forest, being careful to stay away from Little My’s eagle eye. 

There was a certain glee that came with sneaking out of a party. Sneaking out of the house was one kind of rebellion, but escaping something like a party insinuated something much deeper.

Moomin wasn’t quite sure what exactly that was, but the thought of his own silent rebellion thrilled him to the bone.

They walked aimlessly, following the well-trod path through the forest, listening to the music sink into the night behind them. 

Snufkin was different in the nighttime, his cheeks flushed and his eyes glinting with light. Throughout the forest, lightning-bugs flashed around them, like stars that had fallen to the earth. 

They came upon a crossroads in the road; Snufkin stopped, closed his eyes, and presently grabbed Moomin’s paw and went off at a run down the left path. 

Moomin was never usually the one being dragged, but he couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy it, watching Snufkin run, his boots beating on the fallen leaves, one paw on his hat to keep it from flying clean off his head.

They found themselves at the beach.

The same cliff that they had gone however many nights ago.

Snufkin went right up to the edge, and for a moment Moomin thought he might throw himself off it. But he was looking down into the water, a childlike smile spread across his face.

Moomin walked up to where Snufkin was standing. 

There, in the water, streaming back into the cave underneath the cliff, were millions of glowing fish, stretching out as far as the eye could see. Like the moon had split into pieces and droplets of moonshine had fallen into the water.

“The fish,” Moomin breathed.

“They came back,” Snufkin said.

And he grabbed Moomin’s paw and did not let go.

Even though the party was far away, Moomin could still feel that ball of fiery courage nestled deep next to his heart.

“Snufkin,” he said, very slowly. “Is this a date?”

Snufkin let out a short breath of air. “I would like it to be,” he whispered. “Would you?”

“Yes, very much.”

“Alright.” Snufkin seemed composed to an outside eye, but even the floppy brim of his trusty hat couldn’t hide the redness that had taken hold of his cheeks and the tops of his ears. “Alright.”

Neither said anything, but deep in the forest the wind in the trees whispered for them, _I love you_.

And the two of them stood, paw in paw, shoulder to shoulder, on the cliffside. 

The great sky coming down over the evening like a hand-sewn quilt, cold and comforting.

The heavens stretching up into infinity, with stars that sang for just the two.

And the wind sounded like harmonica.

And the trees smelled of home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank y'all so so much for reading and commenting and loving this fic  
> it's time i told you the song that the titles are from (and a bunch of stolen lines) is Stars by Ēriks Ešenvalds  
> if anyone wants to chat about moomin or this fic or life you can message me on tumblr at order_of_the_forks lol please talk to me

**Author's Note:**

> hello and thank you for reading  
> please comment i Yearn  
> there will be more chapters for as long as i have homework to put off


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